


No One But You

by wordsbymeganmichael



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 1940's ranch au, F/M, Young Love, and so does emma, farmer au, killian rides horses, modern au i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-14 04:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14127855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsbymeganmichael/pseuds/wordsbymeganmichael
Summary: Emma Nolan has spent her whole life on her father's ranch - it is the only life she has known. But when Killian, only a few years older than her, finds his refuge from the War working for David, who is surprised when the two fall in love? Mary Margaret does all she can to send her daughter to a better life than the ranch, but will she be called back? And will anything work in keeping her and Killian Jones apart?





	1. Chapter 1

Emma Nolan has spent her whole life on her father’s ranch, knowing nothing beyond the sheep, goats, donkeys, cows, and horses that called his hundred acres their home. Mary Margaret, her mother, had taken her to the closest town at least twice a year since she was six, but these trips were the only time she left the ranch for years, until her father began sending her to run errands, either on her own, or with one of the men who work for him. Being his only heir, David relies on her to take over the ranch when he was gone, though, of course, she has quite some time before she has to worry about any of that. 

Emma was born to run this farm. She was a natural with the animals, knew exactly what she was doing - not that David ever doubted her. 

But one day early in 1941, three months after her fifteenth birthday, Emma’s whole life changed suddenly. She was returning from taking her favorite mare, Swan Song, out for her morning ride when she saw him in the stables for the first time. Her father had mentioned that he was hiring a new ranch hand, a young man named Killian Jones, whose father insisted he find himself an agriculture job after his older brother joined the army to fight the War. 

Though her father never told her that the new ranch hand would be so… gorgeous. 

If she was not riding Swan Song, she would have stopped in her tracks the moment she saw him. Even on her horse, she feels her breath catch in her throat, feels the pounding of her heart against her ribs. He is unlike anyone Emma had ever seen (though, granted, she had a very small realm of people she has actually  _ seen _ ), a god brought to land, that found his way to her father’s farm. He does not seem to have seen her yet, and she takes the opportunity to take a really good look at him as she approaches. His dark hair is just long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail, with the chiseled features of a fine marble statue. He has a dark red button-down over a white t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a pair of dark blue jeans. And then, finally, he looks up at her as she dismounts Swan Song outside the stable, and she drowns in the oceans of his bright blue eyes.

“Well, hello there,” he says to her with a voice like warm honey, flashing her a smile perfect enough for the movies. No one told her he was going to have an accent, beautiful enough to turn her insides to butter - though maybe they just did not know? 

“Hello,” she manages to reply. “You must be Killian, the new ranch hand?”

“Aye, that I am. And who might you be, love?”

“Emma Nolan, my father is the one that hired you. Pleased to meet you.”

He pauses for just a moment, realizing just what this means, then bows slightly towards her.  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Nolan,” he says with a wink. 

“Please, call me Emma.”

He stares at her for just a moment too long, both of them lost for words, but then his attention turns to the mare. “And who is this beauty?”

Emma smiles up at her horse, running her fingers through her mane. “Her name is Swan Song, and she is the pride of my life.”

“What is she, almost two years old?”

She turns back to him, her eyes wide with surprise. “A month and a half away, actually. But how did you know?”

“There’s a reason your father hired a seventeen year old, I suppose,” he answers, taking the reins from her and leading the horse through the stables, though Emma remains at his side. “The only thing I’ve known to be stable my whole life is horses. Who can at least rely that they won’t leave you for a better life, or join the navy when you need them the most.” He snaps his head to her, having realized what he said just a moment too late. “Sorry, Miss Swan, that was - “

“No, Killian, there’s no need to apologize.” She leads Swan Song into her stall, then picks up his brush, starting to gently remove the tangles from her mane, part of their daily routine. “You’re in a new environment, with people you’ve never met before. You’re allowed to be stressed, to crack a little bit. You’re allowed to be human.”

She meets his eyes again, smiling up at him, though he seems to be drowning in his own emotions. Little did the two of them know that she was destined to be just the thing to pull him to shore. 

 

Over the next few months, Emma and Killian grew closer, quickly becoming the best of friends, though the fact that they are the only two around their age on the ranch may have affected their friendship greatly. 

But then, one day in particular, Emma notices how Killian begins to act strange towards her: blushing at times that do not seem to fit with what she has come to know about him, refusing to meet her eyes, going through periods of prolonged silence. She remembers the day she put everything together, figured out the puzzle he had been setting her up for. It was late in August, the bright sun high in the Pennsylvania sky, and she was on her way out to take Swan Song for her daily ride and groom, but he stopped her on the way to the stables. 

“Emma!” When she whips around to find where his voice is coming from, she notices that he looks different than he has before, not in work clothes, but in what looks like his Sunday best: a clean, new pair of slacks and a white button down shirt, though she still sees the tips of his boots peeking out from under the hem of his pants. 

“Killian,” she calls out to him as he approaches. “What’s the special occasion?”

He holds up what he has in his hands, which she can now tell is a basket. 

“I packed us a picnic, if you’ll join me.” He is close enough for her to see his smile, one that starts with his mouth and overflows into this bright blue eyes. 

“Of course I’ll join you. Where shall we go?” 

Catching up with her, he runs his arm through hers and continues to the stables. “I have just the place in mind.” After helping her onto Swan Song, he mounts his own colt, a beautiful Morgan he won at auction and deemed ‘Jolly Roger’ after the traditional pirate flag, since he has a large, white mark that looks like a skull on his flank. He leads her down the trails she knows like the back of her hand, around the corrals, then into the woods that cover over 5 acres of the property. Emma has spent much time in these woods, but most of her free time recently has been spent learning the business from David, or studying her schoolwork with her mother. Killian, however, has been spending as much time as he can learning these woods, something he never had the ability to do in England as a child, or in Boston once they moved there after the death of his mother. 

He knows exactly the spot he is taking her, a small clearing by the creek he found one day, with the most perfect view of the small waterfall buried deep in the secrets of the forest. It takes a while for them to reach his destination, but in each other’s company, it feels like no time at all. Killian spreads his blanket out over the grass, finding a space that the sun is warming, peeking through the tops of the trees in the mid-morning sun, then sits next to her atop it, spreading out their picnic in front of them: bottles of cola, fresh fruit, sandwiches, candy bars. 

Looking at the spread before her, Emma knows that this could not have been a spur-of-the-moment plan of his, especially because he must have grabbed the candy the last time he went to town, which was at least a week ago, not to mention the fruit, and his clean, newly-pressed clothing. 

He is oddly quiet, staring at her for long periods of time, and then getting distracted by the landscape. Finally, she presses him for answers.

“Killian, what is going on?”

He turns his attention from the stream back to her, looking deeply into her bright green eyes for a moment, the same green as the leaves with the sunlight shining through them. “I came here to ask you something, Emma,” he says softly. “To tell you something important.”

She waits for him to continue, taking a bite of one of the soft peaches, but when he does not, she raises her eyebrows at him. “Okay?”

“I have -  I’ve never really been close to anyone my whole life, save my brother, and then he left me. It may have been what my father wanted, which, granted, made it a harder decision, but I needed to leave that life behind, to find something new, and there was always a part of me that hoped this new life would lead me to someone that I would grow to love in a way unlike anything I have ever experienced.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at his hands, then smiles up at her. “But I never expected it to happen on my first day at the ranch, with the rancher’s own daughter.”

“Are you -  _ Killian,”  _ she breathes, trying to understand exactly what he is trying to tell her. 

“Yes, Emma,” he says, eyes shining at her. “With your father’s permission, I would like to begin courting you, and - “

“You don’t have to  _ court  _ me. That’s so old-school of you.” She smiles at him through her long eyelashes, her cheeks reddening in the sunlight. “All you have to do is kiss me,” she whispers. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing this. Have fun.

It is better than anything Emma had ever dreamed of - and it was definitely something she dreamed of doing, gently pressing her lips against Killian’s, though only for a few short, incredible moments. They seperate, staring into the bright eyes of the other, but then he presses his forehead against hers, holding her face between his hands, and she runs her fingers through his hair, loosely flowing in the soft breeze of the forest. 

“Emma,” he whispers after a moment, and he feels a smile grow across her face. 

“Shhh,” she sighs, kissing him again. “Just… appreciate this moment, Killian. Just be here with me.”

“Aye, love. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” And it is, her hand in his hair, her whole body at his fingertips, shining in the sun like an angel - everything he has ever wanted from her. 

Well,  _ almost  _ everything - but he is a gentleman, and his brother taught him nothing if not good form, so he will wait as long as he has to before he can finally hold her in his arms. 

They sit like this for a few minutes, gently feeling the other next to them - and then Emma feels her stomach rumble, and she pulls away from him, turning to the feast still spread out before them. He feels her move away, and opens his eyes to see what drew her attention away. 

“Can we, uh… Killian, can we eat? I’m starved.”

He chuckles at her softly, kissing her cheek before he lets her go. “Of course we can eat. That’s the whole purpose of a picnic, now, isn’t it?”

Together, the two of them leave nothing behind: the fruit, the sandwiches, even the candy is all gone by the time they are finished with it all. They lose track of time there, in the company only of each other, just enjoying the other: chatting, eating, stealing soft kisses when the other is not looking. It is not until the sun begins to disappear behind the trees that Emma realizes just how much time they have spent here, and she startles him with how quickly she jumps up.

“Killian, we have to head back!”

He must come to the same realization that she does, because she jumps up after her, quickly throwing the remains of their picnic back into the basket as quickly as he can, and Emma helps. 

“I have so many things I told my mother I would help her do today, and now the day has almost left us. She is  _ not  _ going to be happy with me,” she says out loud, though mainly to herself and not to her companion. 

“Aye, I had things to do for your father, as well. Hopefully he understands after I speak with him about today,” he responds, quickly folding the picnic blanket and sliding it in to place under his saddle. 

“My father,” she sighs, petting Swan Song’s snout before climbing atop him. “Killian, do me a favor?”

“Anything, love.”

“Let me talk to my father? Please? He may - he might take it better coming from me, you know?”

“What are you going to tell him?” he asks, mounting Jolly Roger, then begins leading him out of the woods. 

She lets out a deep breath. “I really don’t know yet. But I’ll figure something out.”

He turns around to smile at her, and she knows that with a smile like that to light up her life, anything is possible. 

 

“Do you love him?” Mary Margaret asks later that night, sitting down across from her daughter at the dinner table, which they have just cleaned off. She always was a dreamer, someone who was raised believing in the fairy tale of one true love, of soul mates, and of love at first sight - a fairy tale that came true when she met David.

“Love him? Mother, I’m only fifteen. I don’t know if I  _ love  _ him, but isn’t that the whole purpose of this? To see if, maybe, he can be the one that I love?”

“I knew that I loved your father the moment I saw him.”

“Just because it is not love at first sight does not make it any less valid than your marriage. All I want is the chance to get to know him better, with your permission. To give him a chance to become the one that I love the most?”

“But there is so much more to the world than this farm, Emma. Go out and live a little, meet someone that does not ride horses and work on a ranch.”

“What’s wrong with a man who rides horses and works on a ranch?” David asks his wife, reaching over to cover her hand with his, but when he smiles at her, she does not return it. 

“She’s our only child, David. I think she should at least be given the opportunity to know something outside the confines of this property.”

“I’m happy here, with the two of you. And with Killian. Isn’t that good enough?”

Her parents share a glance, silently conversing in just the way they have perfected through their years together. Finally, they turn back to her, though she can find no clue to their decision in the eyes of either. 

“Emma,” her mother says softly, letting a moment pass between them before she continues. “Your father and I need some time to talk about this all, some time to decide how we feel about all of this.” 

She turns to David, who smiles down at her daughter. “We’re not quite ready for our only child to grow up yet.”

Mouth slightly agape, she nods to her parents, then lets out a breath she did not realize she was holding. “Of course. That makes sense,” she replies, turning away from them, and walks around the corner and out of their room. When she is out of their sight, she leans back against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to slow the pounding of her heart in her chest. 

Her parents must think she had gone further, because when they begin talking, it is loud enough for her to hear. 

“I don’t know about this, David.”

“What is not to know, Mary Margaret? Why should we not give her this chance to be happy?”

“There’s a whole world out there beyond this ranch, a world that she should be able to see before she ties herself to someone. All I’m asking is to get her to leave before she decides who she wants to love.”

She knows that her father will not argue with this - he always caves and sees things through the more level-headed eyes of his wife. Emma knows this, and she does not try to talk herself out of the wave of sadness that overcomes her, and she tries to hold it all in until she reaches her bedroom. She falls face-first onto her bed, burying herself in the blankets, before she lets out the first long sob.

Not only are they not allowing her to be with Killian.

They are sending her away. 

She has a few minutes to spend with herself before there is a knock at her door. At first, she does not bother to leave her bed - both of her parents would let themselves in anyway. But when the door does not open, she finds her way out of her blanket cocoon, slowly opening the door after the third knock. 

And on the other side of the door, she finds Killian, back in his regular riding gear, dirty from the little bit of work he got to do since they returned to the farmhouse. 

“Killian” she says, her voice full of surprise. She expected a lot, but for some reason, she did not expect him. 

He turns his head down the hallway, in the direction of her parents’ room, then asks, “May I come in?” His voice is soft, and he runs his fingers through his hair, hanging loosely over his shoulders. 

“Yes. Yes, of course.” She takes a step out of his way, confused about his sudden timidness - it is not the first time he has entered her bedroom, and he has since given up the formality of asking for permission to answer. Turning the chair to face the rest of the room, Killian takes a seat at her desk, and she sits on the bed across from him. “What’s going on?”

“Your parents, Emma. I heard them on my way here - their windows are open, and they are arguing something fierce. Arguing about you.”

“About us,” she corrects.

“Aye, that’s what I was afraid of.” Moving the chair closer to her, he leans towards her, his knees inches from hers. “I don’t want this to be something that tears your family apart.”

“Killian, please.” she reaches out to take his hand in hers. “That’s not going to happen. We argue all the time, this is just another subject they’ll just have to work through.”

“You and your parents argue, yes. But I have never heard your parents fight the way they are now.”

Her eyes lower to the ground. She knows he is right, that her parents usually see the light in the argument of the other and solve any problems they have without raising their voices - especially not to the point where you can hear them from the yard. But something about this is different, more heated.

In any other circumstance, she would leave her parents be, let them work out their own problems while she went about her day, but this is different. Unlike ever before, their argument is about  _ her _ , and not in a good way. 

“I hope you know this is not about you, Killian.”

“Of course it is!” He stands up in a huff, then begins pacing before her. “I knew I should have spoken to your father first, made sure that it was okay for me to do this, but I was too excited to talk to you, I needed you to know, and now they’re angry at me - “

“It’s not about you!” She reaches out, grabbing him by the arm, to stop his movement and his flow of words. “They’re arguing about me. About my future. And, trust me, this argument would have happened even if you had spoken to my father first.”

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Yes _ , Killian. Their argument has nothing to do with you, nothing even to do with us, and everything to do with me.”

This causes his eyes to shine bright, a light behind them that was not there before, and he pulls her lips to his, planting a fierce kiss upon them. She stands to hug him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, then kisses him again, more gently this time. 

Then, a moment too late, his eyes snap to her door, which he left open behind him - and, in the doorway, stand David and Mary Margaret. Emma must feel him go tense, and she turns in the direction of his gaze. When she sees them, she instinctively puts herself between them and Killian, shielding his body with hers.

A beat passes between them, the longest moment of her life, before Mary Margaret speaks up. “You come seeking our permission, then continue to act without it? Emma, I thought you were better than this.”

“Please, don’t,” Killian says before she gets a chance to answer, pushing past her. “Please don’t blame her for any of this. It was all me, it’s all my fault.”

“I only wish I believed that,” she replies softly, then looks past him to her daughter. “I thought we understood each other, Emma. But this - this proves that I was wrong.”

Emma knows exactly what this means, and cannot stop the quiver of her lip, the fast flow of tears down her cheeks. 

“Pack your bags, Emma. You’re going to spend some time with your Aunt Belle. You leave tomorrow night,” Mary Margaret says, then turns on her heel, heading back down the hallway. 

She looks to her father, taking a few steps in his direction. “Please, father,” she says, her voice no more than a whisper, but he says nothing, only sighs, his eyes closed. 

He is trying to hold it together, she can tell, but there is nothing left he can do, and they both know that. “I’m sorry, Emma,” he manages, but turns away before he can say anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write this chapter in, like, four different ways and none of them worked, so I decided upon this format. I promise we'll get back to the action soon. 
> 
> If you're on tumblr, come say hi! Thejollyroger-writer - your feedback is what keeps me going! Thank you!

_December 28, 1943_   
_My Dear Love,_   
_Every day that passes when I cannot be with you puts a weight on my heart unlike anything I have ever felt, and it has made these past few months . If I was not sure that you were so dedicatedly waiting for me, I would have given up hope by now; but knowing that I have kept the same hold on your heart as you have on mine is all I need to know to keep going_   
_Things on the ranch are the same, as always. Your father continues to do his best without his first mate, but he relied on you to do so many things that it’s always difficult. He slipped up this morning and called the new stable hand by your name instead of her own, and I could sense the pain he felt when he realized his mistake. He has begun to allow me to work closely with him, slowly taking over more and more tasks that I assume were yours, but, honestly, love, it just makes me miss you more. Just being around the ranch is a pain to me, knowing that it was only because of my actions that we have been separated. I only wish we would have had more time to spend together, to talk, before you were taken from my arms. Call me old fashioned, Emma, but Liam always told me that once you found the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, you should never, ever let her go. What hurts me the most is that I took this ability away from myself, that if I had been able to control myself, had not acted on impulse just one time, you may still be here next to me, we may have been able to convince your parents to give me a chance - and I ruined it all. But one day, I will have you back in my arms, able to hold you next to me once more. And I am only counting down the days._   
_Merry Christmas, my love. One day in the future, we will be able to celebrate together. I promise._   
_Always yours,_   
_Killian_

_** ** **_

_May 12, 1945_   
_Killian,_   
_I know I tell you this every letter, but not a day goes by when I do not think of you. Every day, I glance down at my hand and see the bright ruby, a token I know you gave me to remember you by, but there is no way I would ever forget you. I gave you my heart before I left, and I would never dream of giving it to any other. Three years is a long time to be without a heart, but I know that you will watch over it until I return - and one day, I will return. They may have sent me here to find a new love, one they may deem more “worthy,” but they have never had control of who I love. As long as I know that you are home waiting for me, all my love is yours._   
_Belle continues to have her friend's son, Neal, over for dinners and parties. Belle talks about him constantly, I think she believes I will come to find some affection for him. Honestly, I find him to be a total bore, and I would not mind if I never had to see him again._   
_I have made a friend, however, a naval man who just returned from the war. I met him in the library one day, helping Belle shelve the books. I found myself drawn to him. He caught my eye when he asked me where we kept the newspaper archives. When I asked him what exactly he was searching for, he said he was going to read every paper from the last five years, since the very first day he joined the navy and became unable to read them. In many ways, he reminds me of you, Killian. He, too, grew up in England, and his family came to America to start over - but that is a very common story around here, especially after the last Great War and the beginning of the current one. Less common, though, are his shining blue eyes, so bright they could light up a whole room. I have told him about you, as well, that my mother sent me away to learn how to love outside a farm - I did not think it necessary to tell him I was sent here because my mother hoped I would find a new husband, since I know it is never going to happen._   
_Every new “suitor” (as Belle calls them, which I find so old-fashioned) just makes me miss you more, my love. One day soon, I will return to you, and we can be together, I can feel it in my heart._   
_Yours, now and forever,_   
_Emma Nolan_

_** ** **_

_July 15, 1945_   
_Emma,_   
_I write to you with the utmost urgency, daughter, though I also apologize for waiting so long since you’ve heard from me last. I am afraid that your father and Killian have both been in a terrible accident at the ranch, and though they are both alive, they will be off their feet for some time. David has asked that you return to the ranch as quickly as you can to take over his duties until he is able to get back on his feet._   
_We also agreed that you may have been gone long enough, and we will discuss your future once everything is back to normal. Belle told me that you have made a friend, a naval officer. If he would, ask him to join you - we could us all the help we can get._   
_I love you, my daughter, and will see you soon._   
_Mary Margaret_


	4. Chapter 4

Emma sits across from her mother at the table, clutching the mug of hot cocoa in front of her. Neither of them know what to say, sitting in the warm silence of the kitchen, the crackle of the fires lit throughout the farmhouse the only sound passing between them, save the creaking of the floors above them. 

“Emma,” she says after a few minutes. “I hope you know my intention was never to hurt you.”

Emma takes a long, deep breath, followed by another mouthful of her cocoa. “Well, mother, that’s exactly what you did,” she replies curtly. “It hurt. Sending me away hurt more than anything else that has ever happened to me - and, worse than that, you tried to force me to give my heart to someone else.”

“I knew that you would never leave Belle’s house, or the library, if she did not give you reason to. I only did it to try and help you.”

“It didn’t help! If anything, it only made me miss home, miss  _ him _ , more! It was terrible, knowing that you would rather send me away to spend time with strangers than be here on this ranch with you. That the best solution to me following my heart was to send me away from my whole family!”

“Emma - “

“No, nothing you can say can win me back!  _ Two years,  _ mother! You sent me away for two years, and now you expect me to act like everything is normal? You raised me to always be strong for myself, trained me to be my own person and to make my own decisions, and then punished me for doing just that.” She stands up so violently that her chair scrapes across the floor a few inches farther than her legs, turning towards the door. “Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to go see the man who, even with your best efforts, I have not stopped loving for two years.”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” Mary Margaret says softly, and when Emma whips back to face her, she is staring down the the table in front of her, refusing eye contact with her daughter.

“Excuse me?”

Mary Margaret repeats her words, her eyes still fixed on the table, but it does not clear up all the questions swimming in Emma’s head.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Slowly, Mary Margaret raises her eyes to her daughter’s, which she can tell are slowly filling with tears. 

“He heard that you brought this naval officer with you, and now he does not want to see you. He said it would just be more painful than the fire.”

“You - bringing him with em was your idea! You said we could use his help on the ranch!” She looks around quickly, realizing something: “Where is he, by the way?”

Mary Margaret raises her eyes to the ceiling. “He’s speaking with your father.”

Without another word, Emma turns away from her again, hoping that her father, even in his current state, is more level-headed than her mother.

Practically running down the hallway, she pauses for a moment outside the door of the guest room, where Killian is healing. All that stands between them is the door, and before the end of the conversation with her mother, she would have opened it in a heartbeat; but something in her holds her back, and she feels her hands shaking just looking at the barrier. If it were not for the words of her mother, there would be nothing stopping her - but if she was telling the truth, and Killian really did not want to see her, really believed that she brought the officer with her as a potential suitor even though she had written him just weeks before saying otherwise…

She did not want that to be in the air between them when they are finally reunited. This should be a moment of happiness, of lost love being rediscovered after so long apart, and not a moment of pain, of heartbreak.

_ ‘No,’  _ she says to herself, moving past the guest room door and towards the door to her parents’ room,  _ ‘Not yet.’ _

Her mother was right about this, at least: when she opens the door, they are both there, her father and her friend, both engaged in quiet, excited conversation. Her father sees her first, his face immediately brightening, and when her companion sees the change in David’s face, he stops speaking, turning towards her. 

He rests his hand on David’s arm, who just nods to him. “Go,” her father says, loud enough that she can hear him, but it is not a command. Smiling at her as he passes her in the doorway, he leaves her alone with her father. 

She finally gets a chance to take a good look at him, and he is worse off than even she imagined: both of his arms are bandaged, one from wrist to shoulder, the other from elbow to shoulder, both resting at his side. His blanket fails to cover his tanned torso, which is also scarred, though not all bad enough to be covered, though the ointment on them gives him a shining sheen. His legs are covered with a blanket, but she can imagine that they, too, are burned like his arms. His face is reddened, the scars running up his neck, his hair cut shorter than she remembers, but for the most part, seems to be unscathed, as far as she can tell. 

“Emma,” he says softly, though she can still hear the excitement in her voice. “Welcome home.” He is still beaming up at her, obviously having missed her over the past two years. 

“Hello, father.”  She wants to hug him, feel the gentle warmth of him, the same way he always calmed her as a baby, but she knows that is not the best idea given his current state; instead, she stands beside his bed, leaning down to kiss his cheek, then sits as close to the edge of the bed as she can, doing her best not to disturb him. 

“How was Philadelphia?” 

She chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s definitely not home, father. I missed you, missed the ranch, dearly. City life can be incredibly boring.”

“Tell me about it. You know, your mother always dreamed about living in the city, at least for a short time. But I was raised to be a rancher, never knew how to be anything else. She used to go to the city for the winter before you were born, when there was nothing for her to do here.”

“My mother was a city girl?” This is difficult for Emma to picture: her whole life, she had known her mother to be the perfect rancher’s wife, knowing how to take care of the animals, how to ride a horse, running the numbers part of David’s business. She just could not see her mother in poofy dresses, going to the biggest parties and living on the town. 

“Oh, yes. But then once you were born, she put away that life to be the woman I needed her to be, and for that I have always been grateful.”

A moment passes between them before her father says, “Things just weren’t the same around here without you, either, you know. I never realized just how much I’ve taught you over the years until I had to teach it all again, and so quickly.” Even though she and her father have always been close, his praise still causes her to blush.  “Killian had to pick up a lot of slack while you were gone, and at first, I was not sure how it was going to go. But that boy of yours is a natural.”

Emma’s eyes turn to the ground, her father’s words like a knife in her heart, though she knows he did not do it on purpose. 

“Have you seen him yet? He’s in worse shape than I am - though, if it weren’t for him, you would have come home for my funeral.”

She turns back to him, her eyes wide. “He - he saved you?”

David seems confused, expecting that Mary Margaret would have told Emma this by now, but that does not stop him. “Yes, Emma. He was the one that realized the barn was on fire, and he rode right for it, with me right behind him, and we thankfully got the horses out into the paddock before everything started coming down. He got himself out of the barn just fine, but when he realized that I was no longer right behind him, he went back in for me. And as thankful as I am for him, I don’t know what I would have done if he had perished just trying to save my life.”

Emma does not know what to say to this, so she stays silent. A beat passes between them before David realizes that he never answered his question from before, so he repeats it.

“Have you seen him yet?”

Emma shakes her head, then says, “Mother told him that Liam came with me as a potential suitor and not as an extra hand until you and he are back on your feet, and now she says that he does not want to see me to save us both from the pain of seeing me with someone else.”

And then, David does something that surprises her: instead of being confused, or angry, he smiles at her. 

“You should go talk to him,” he says.

“But - “

“You may be surprised. I think maybe he’s realized his mistake by now.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t think it’s my place to say. Just go talk to him, Emma.”

After another moment of internal questioning, Emma nods her head at her father, kisses his cheek once more, and leaves him there, hoping that he is correct. 

She is poised to knock on his door when it opens before him, revealing a face she did not expect to see: Liam’s, smiling down at her. 

“Hello,” he says, opening the door for her. “Come in, we were just talking about you.”

Emma is beyond confused, but she does as Liam says. 

Much to her surprise, though just as her father said, Killian smiles at her from the bed. 

David was right - he is in awful shape. Unlike her father, Killian is not covered by a blanket, so she can see his legs, both scarred, bandaged in places up to his knees. His chest is also uncovered, and he has become much hairier than Emma remembers him being, though seemingly unscathed, save his shoulders, both of which are bandaged completely. The entirety of his right arm is covered, still burned so badly she can see it through the gauze, but it is his left arm that is the most surprising - because half of it is gone, bandaged into a stump just below the elbow, the rest of it only scarred. 

Thankfully, his hair somehow got out unscathed, and though it is still shaggy, it is shorter than she remembers, no longer able to be pulled back into a ponytail. 

“Welcome home, Emma.” His voice sends chills down her back, forgetting just how perfect it sounds.

“Thank you, Killian,” she says, still standing in the doorway. 

“I thought you would be more excited to see me, honestly.” His voice is soft, shielded by his pain, but she would recognize his jokes anywhere. 

“My mother said you asked not to see me, so I did not have my hopes too high.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. “That was when I thought the bilge rat you brought was just another naval man, someone who has replaced me in your heart.”

“Killian - “

“How did you spend so many months with this man as your friend and never once ask his last name?”

His question surprises her, the last thing she expects him to ask. “I guess it never came up.”

Killian smiles up at her again. “Aye, it seems that way. Then let me formally introduce you to Captain Liam  _ Jones _ , Emma.”

He gives her a minute to put it all together, and her eyes brighten when she finally understands what he is trying to say: “He’s - your brother?”

“Aye.”

“But you told me your brother was in Boston?”

This time, Liam speaks. “I was in Boston, but when I came home, I needed to find my brother. All our father would tell me was that he was in Pennsylvania, so I went to the closest thing I could think of. Why did  _ you  _ never tell me that the boy who won your heart was an Englishman named Killian?”

She feels her face redden. “I… guess it never came up,” she says again, this time quieter. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“For reuniting me with my brother? Of course not.”

With his words, she fills the space between them, sitting down on the bed next to him.

“I’ll leave you two alone, then,” Liam says, smiling at his little brother, then closes the door behind him.

Finally, with all the emotion they have not been able to show over the past two years, Emma kisses him, trying her best not to hurt him, but he does not seem to care: they are together again.


	5. Chapter 5

Liam knocks softly on David’s door, waiting for his reply before he enters.

“A happy reunion for the Jones brothers, I assume?

Liam can’t help but smile, reunited with his brother after so many years, a brother that he thought he was never going to see again after their father sent him away, refused to tell him where.

“Aye, David. I cannot thank you enough. My mother always said that it is through the strangest of situations that we finally find what we have been searching for.”

“That truly is wisdom,” a voice says from the doorway, and they both turn to see Mary Margaret in the doorway, smiling at the pair of them. “I thought Emma was with you, David?”

“She’s with Killian.”

“I thought he asked to be left alone?”

David turns to Liam to answer, and that he does: “It didn’t take long for him to warm up to me. Being someone’s brother usually clears the air between them.”

“His brother?”

“Aye, amazing how life throws these little surprises, isn’t it? If you hadn’t sent Emma away, then I never would have met her, and I never would have been brought here to be reunited with my brother.”

“At least you can see a light side of it. She does not even want to talk to me,” her voice drips sadness, and she walks to her bed, sitting at her husband’s feet. “I hurt her, David. I was rash, I was harsh, and she knows it. And I don’t think I can ever win her back.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, ma’am,” Liam speaks up. “Why did you send her away in the first place?”

Mary Margaret snaps her head in his direction, almost forgetting he is there with them.

“It’s a little embarrassing, actually, to speak of it with you, Captain,” David replies while his wife takes a moment to regather herself, taking slow steps towards the windows. “We sent her away because of your brother.”

Mary Margaret opens the curtains, staring out over the yard. “She asked for our permission to be with him, and then acted - acted without our permission. When I… when I found them together, I acted without thinking, let my anger get the best of me, and I punished her, more harshly than I ever hoped to punish my only daughter.”

“Well, ma’am, I may be slightly biased towards the boy, but even at the young age he was when I joined the navy, he was one of the most admirable lads I knew.”

David turns to face him, not so much surprised by his words than intrigued about all he has to say. In the four years Killian has been on the farm, David has not had very many chances to see Killian face temptation, face trials - but he does know that the few times he has proven himself, staying true to his daughter while she was away, doing his best to prove himself to David - saving him from the fire - have made a lasting impression on him.

“When Killian and I were on the streets of London as boys, he was always a very ‘Robin Hood’ sort of boy. There was many a day where we would lift something, or have someone offer us food, just to have him give it away to someone that seemed to need it more than he did. Blankets, jackets, money - you name it, he would give it away faster than we could find it. And when he did stoop low enough to steal from someone, he always made sure it was someone that would not miss whatever we needed, someone well-off enough that they would not even notice it. It always amazed me, the way he acted, and how honorable he was, because he certainly did not get that from our father.”

David turns to his wife, still looking out the window, the light of day shining on her face brighter than the low lighting of the room. His words come out slowly, revealing something he had yet to explain to his wife, knowing that it would only make her more upset. “Your brother saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I never would have made it out of that fire.” His wife turns towards him, eyes wide, but he continues, trying his best to keep his gaze on Liam. “I never doubted the honor of Killian, but even if there was a shadow of a doubt in my mind before the accident, when I heard him coming back for me, risking his own life to save mine, even when I thought I was doomed, it’s since disappeared. When his hand was stuck in the beams, the hand that had to be removed, and he did not think he was going to make it out alive - thought he had lost his life in making sure I did not lose mine - he told me to tell her. To tell Emma that he has never stopped loving her, and that all he has done on the ranch was to make sure she was always happy.”

“David,” he hears her say from the window, and he wants more than anything to be able to go to her, to comfort her, but he can’t. “Why - why did you not tell me this?”

Liam senses the sudden tenseness in the room, secrets kept between husband and wife, realizing that it is no longer his place to be in this conversation. Before it gets a chance to escalate, he quietly backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Honestly, I knew you would be angry. That’s why I chose not to tell you this. I almost _died_ in the fire, Mary Margaret. If it weren’t for Killian, the man I have _no problem_ seeing our daughter with for the rest of her life, I would never have made it home that day.”

“And you didn’t think I had the right to know this?”

“I was trying to save you from hurting.”

 _“And look how well that’s working, David!”_  It is at this point when Mary Margaret turns to face her husband, revealing the tears running down her cheeks, shining in the light of the sun through the windows.

“Please, you have to see this from my point of view. I was trying to protect you, save you from this pain, the pain of knowing how close you were to losing me.”

“And what about Emma, David? What would Emma have done if she came home to learn you died in the fire?”

“Then I would expect her to take my place, as I have trained her to do. Live a happy life with that boy in there that she loves.”

“What about me?” she asks softly; then, softer still, just above a whisper, “What about our baby?”

David is quiet for a moment, then asks, in a voice no louder than his wife’s, “Our… what?”

“I’m pregnant, David. With a baby that would have never known his father if you never returned from that accident.”

“But I did come back, Mary Margaret. That’s the only thing that matters anymore. I am here for you, for Emma, and for our baby.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I love you, Emma.” His voice is soft, holding her to him as well as he can without reopening his wounds. “I have wanted to tell you every day for three years, and now that I have you here and can finally tell it, it all feels so… surreal.”

Emma smirks at him. “Three years? Killian, you’ve been here for four?”

“Well, love, it took me some time to warm up to you.”

Even with all of their correspondence the last two years, she is slowly beginning to realize that the thing she missed the most about him was his  _ voice _ , the way it warms her heart when she hears it, his laughter, his jokes, and even the soft shyness of him when he is opening himself to her. Turning to him, she tries her best not to hurt him, moving slowly, and she rests the palm of her hand against his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath her fingertips, a sign of the time that has passed between them. 

“I love you, too, Killian. I’m just so glad that you know that, that you haven’t forgotten or given up on me.”

“Aye, I do have to say, I was slightly distraught when your mother told me you arrived with another man. I thought you had finally given up on me, and I was already in so much pain that I did not think I could bear anymore.”

“I’m sorry my mother lied to you. I’m sure Liam told you this already, but the only reason I brought him was to assist me around the ranch until the two of you were back up on your feet. There was no ill will, at least for my part - it seems I can no longer speak of the intentions of my mother,  because it  _ was  _ her idea for him to join me, though she seems to have had a more malicious intent.”

“I was the one that rushed to conclusions, love. I was not thinking straight. So much had just happened and all I wanted was to have you back with me, back to help nurse me back to health - back in my arms after so long. But when I heard you were not coming alone, that you were bringing a friend from the city with you, I immediately thought the worse, and then your mother confirmed my suspicions.”

“Another jewel in her crown of deception,” Emma adds with a sigh.

After a moment, Killian leans down to kiss the top of her head. “But none of that matters anymore, Emma. You’re home, we’re together, and I’m…”

“Better?”

“I was going to say ‘healing’ since I’m still on the mend, but yes. I am doing better, since you’re here with me.”

They share another kiss, this time softer, slower, both healing the pain of the other, everything that has hurt them since Emma was sent away. For a few moments, they enjoy the comforting silence of the other, nuzzling together, trying to discover what Killian’s current range of motion is. 

“Can you tell me what happened?” She asks finally, breaking the silence, softly feeling the scars on his neck with the tips of her fingers. David had told her that Killian had led him towards the smoke, had gone in to save the horses and cows in that barn, gotten out in time, and then gone back to save her father. But she had not gotten time to ride around the property, assess the damage - she does not even know which barn they lost.  

“We got so lucky, Emma.” His voice is quiet, his eyes not focused anywhere in the room, but instead on somewhere far away, on the other side of their large ranch. “It had rained for most of the week before, so the ground was soaked and stopped the fire from spreading, save to the few trees within its reach. David and I were riding down to the eastern corner to gather some of the horses he had just sold. I saw the smoke, and I just took off.  I don’t even remember if I said anything to your father before I was on my way. 

“The weather had been changing so drastically in the weeks before - dry one day, hot and humid the next, followed by rain, and then all over again. Even though we do our best to keep the hay dry, I guess something slipped through our fingers, because that was where the fire started, and by the time we got there, it had already spread to the structure of the barn. I got there and opened all the stalls, let the animals out into the pasture, with the help of your father and some of the other men who rode towards the smoke. We quickly made sure we got everything we could out of the barn, and then I thought we agreed to get out, but when I turned around, your father was not behind me, had not followed me out of the barn. 

“And that’s when it crashed. The loft fell right in front of him, trapping him in the barn, and I ran in to help him escape. He saw the beam start to fall and he yelled out, and my reflexes got the better of me, making me hold out my arm to stop it from falling on him. It fell on me instead, crushing my hand against the ground. The doctor said it actually broke most of the bones before the burns, but I felt none of it. Not until we were both safely out of the barn.”

He stops, his eyes still far off, but Emma has more questions for him, wants to know everything about his injuries, about what she can do to help him. Before she can ask any of them, he continues:

“David and I just sat there in the grass, unable to move, or unwilling. The other ranch hands had gone to find anyone they could, and someone called the fire department and a few of the local doctors- I told your father that we needed our own telephone on the farm in case there was an emergency, and I think he now agrees with me. 

“There was so much pain, Emma. Everything hurt, so much that I couldn’t even tell if I was in one piece. I fainted, passed out right there on the grass, outside the burning barn. I may have woken up a few times, but I have no memory of any of it. A day or two had gone by, and when I woke up, I was here, all wrapped up, with half my bloody arm gone.”

Without a reply, Emma nestles herself next to him, her head on his chest, breathing him in. She does not need anything else from him, no other explanations - everything he had given her already was more than enough, more than she expected, and all she needed now was to be here with him, to feel him next to her in the very way she’s dreamed of for the past two years. She feels him shifting beneath her, trying to find a comfortable position without rustling her, but by the time he presses his lips against her hair, she is asleep against his chest, finally able to rest soundly for the first time since she received the letter from her mother, and it is not long until Killian follows. 

 

The sun is low on the horizon, shining softly through the leaves and into the bedroom by the time a soft knock on the door wakes Killian, though it does not seem to rouse the perfect blonde softly snoring on his chest. 

“Come in,” he calls, trying to rouse Emma without awakening any of his wounds, and as the door slowly squeaks open, she turns her soft green eyes up at him with a smile, as if realizing all her dreams have come true, waking up in his arms - which is exactly what has happened. 

But when the door opens and Emma sees the silhouette of her mother lit up in the light from the hallway, the dream is gone, the light disappeared from her eyes. 

“Mother,” she spits, her voice dripping with spite, anger, even hatred.

But Mary Margaret’s response is soft. “Emma, I truly am sorry. I was unnecessarily harsh, but I… I really must speak with you. Alone, preferably?”

Something in her voice knows her daughter’s response before she hears it, the question asked in earnest, though she knew her request would be denied.

“Anything you have to say, you can say to both of us. Your decisions have not just hurt me, your  _ only daughter _ , but you have also hurt Killian, who has not only helped you, but who saved your husband’s life.”

“Look, Emma, I am not here to fight with you. I’m here to… your father and I have some news to tell you.”

Emma sits up, silent, but does not take her eyes off her mother. 

“We’ve been through a lot of change around here in the past few days, but it’s nothing compared to what the future now holds. Not only is David unable to work for the near future, but now we’re also…” Mary Margaret has kept her expression blank, trying not to give anything away, but here, she breaks, smiling down at her daughter. “We’re having another baby.”

But Emma does not show the same excitement as her mother, instead furrowing her brow, mouth agape. “You’re - what?”

“I’m pregnant, Emma. I was not planning on telling you yet, but with all the change bound to happen around here, it just made sense to get everything out at the same time, and your father agreed.”

“So you send me away, and then you replace me? I have worked my  _ whole  _ life to run this ranch - “

Mary Margaret stops her before her anger rages any farther. “No, no, of course not. You’re letting your anger take over, but if you would let me finish, you would learn that our plan is exactly the opposite. We want you to take over, Emma. Your father can’t do it, and soon, I won’t be able to either. But you can. You said it yourself, you’ve spent your whole life learning how to do it, and it was always the plan. We just never planned that you would only be seventeen when you took over.”

“You’re - “ she starts, but leaves the word hanging alone in the air, turning to Killian for just a moment before looking back at her mother, and she starts again on a completely different page. “We’re going to need to put an ad in the paper, get some more help around here.” 

Mary Margaret smiles at her, a smile that Emma now returns, reaching for a pile of paper sitting on the nightstand, most likely left there by the doctors, but coming in handy. 

“To cover the work that both you and my father do, we’re going to need probably five for the rest of the summer, then more once we reach autumn, though it depends on how long it takes you to recover, Killian. We’re also going to need to rebuild the barn.” 

Emma has found something else to focus on, a new purpose in her life, something that she did not even know that she needed - and Mary Margaret was the one to give it to her. She is too caught up in the moment, her mind working faster than her pen can, to notice her mother back out of the room, softly closing the door behind her, to leave them on their own to plan the future. 


	7. Chapter 7

Within a few weeks, Killian is back on his feet, and as much as Emma wishes she had her father by her side to help her get back into the swing of things, David’s healing is coming at a far slower rate. While David is still bedridden, Killian is up and out of bed for most of the day, and though most of his bandages are gone, the ones that remain still have to be changed almost daily to keep infection down. 

Together, Emma, David, and Killian had decided that for the time being, the barn that they lost is not top priority; all of the animals had been moved to other pastures or sold, and without the required dedication to the specific project, rebuilding the barn would take more manpower and time than they could spare. 

Emma had followed through on her plan, put an ad in the local papers for able-bodied individuals, preferably with some experience and knowledge of the business, to help her on the ranch, and over the course of a few weeks, she had found and hired six - five men and a woman, Ruby Lucas, much to her excitement. Three of the men and Ruby were from towns around the ranch, and two of them were from Philadelphia, just home from the war, having replied to an add she asked Belle to post at the library - plus Liam, who had changed his plans indefinitely to stay and help his brother. 

Along with the ad, Emma also asked Belle if she could find someone capable of making her a very specific piece of equipment, something detrimental to the running of the ranch for the time being. And she did. Not two weeks later, Belle herself came and delivered the package, which Emma unveiled immediately: a padded pair of riding pants, fitted to a new saddle, both made for Killian to return to Jolly Roger without reopening his wounds.

That very day, Liam had helped him fasten the pants over his wounds and climb onto his horse for the first time in what seemed like forever, after being on him multiple times a day for four years. Jolly Roger was thankful, too, growing antsy in his stall, though Emma always tried her best to take him out for a jog every day. 

Killian held his own secret purchase from Emma, as well, one that was also delivered with Belle’s visit. He sent Liam back to Philadelphia, searching for just what he is looking for. After his ride with her across the ranch, freeing him from chains that he did not think he would get out of for another few months, she sent him back in the house, having a few more errands to take care of with Liam and Ruby, and Killian went straight up to the room that has become his, found the small velvet box, and knocked on David’s door, which Mary Margaret opened. 

“Killian! How was your ride?”

He smiles at her, but gives her a very curt, “Great,” before changing the subject. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Mary Margaret takes a step back, letting him in the room, still brightly lit by the sun shining through the open window. 

“What’s the matter, Killian?” 

Her question confuses him, since in his mind, there are no problems, absolutely nothing wrong - in fact, it is quite the opposite. But he turns to the back wall, looking in the mirror at his reflection, and realizes just how serious he looks, disheveled, dusty and dirty, his face chiseled into an expression full of so much emotion that is seems to be completely empty. When he turns back to David and Mary Margaret, who has taken a seat at the foot of the bed, she smiles at them, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make himself seem more decent. 

“Nothing is the matter, actually. Quite the opposite.” He feels the box in his pocket, then pulls it out and hands it to Mary Margaret, who opens it then smiles up at him. “I would like to - with your permission, I mean, I would like to ask Emma to marry me. Maybe even tonight. I love her, but I think the two of you know that by now. I want to - I want her by my side for the rest of my life, and I have known that for a while now.”

Mary Margaret hands the box to her husband, who also smiles up at him, then closes it and hands it back to him. The two of them share a look, but it lasts no more than a second - they already know the answer to his request. 

“Of course you can marry our daughter, Killian,” David says, smiling up at the boy that he has grown so fond of. 

“Thank you, sir,” Killian replies, turning to leave, but then thinks of another question for them, spinning on his heel. “Actually, I have another question for the two of you.”

“Of course, Killian,” David replies. “Anything.”

“I - I want to build her a house on the ranch. Somewhere we can live together, but on our own, away from… everything. Would that - would that be okay?”

“Do you have anywhere in mind?” 

Smiling again, he remembers back to the first time he confessed his emotions, their first kiss, in the large clearing by the stream. “Yes, actually. I was hoping I could  - we could - build in the woods. There’s this clearing, I’m sure you know of it, by the stream, and I think it would be perfect.”

Mary Margaret smiles at her husband, a warm smile that holds an intimate secret behind it, the moment that they decided it was time to start a family, and then passes the smile to Killian.

“We know exactly where you’re speaking of,” she says, but David finishes the thought: “And it would be perfect. You can start as soon as you feel comfortable doing so. And please let me know if we can do anything to help you.”

“Thank you, sir. I most definitely well.” And with a slight bow of thanks, he leaves them alone.

Over the next few days, he goes through the same planning that he did a little over two years before, but this time, he must outdo himself. It is far easier to gather everything this time around; instead of coaxing the workers that run to the closest town, or even Mary Margaret herself, he can do everything on his own, or with the help of Liam, who has taken to riding to town every week anyway to check up on the ads and gather more medical supplies for him and David. 

Finally, everything is together: a bottle of peach wine, as much fresh fruit as Liam could find, fried chicken that he asked Ruby to teach him to make (though it was a learning experience for both of them), crackers, fresh-squeezed lemonade, and chocolate chip cookies. By late morning on Sunday, the weather is perfect, and he insists that she find the best outfit that she feels comfortable riding in, because they were going on a date - and  _ yes, he was sure she had time, he made sure Liam and Ruby were prepared to do whatever they need to do for her to take the day off.  _

It is only once they are on their way that Killian lets her question him - though he of course keeps the true reason of the occasion a secret.

“Come on, Killian, tell me what this is really about,” she says, seeing right through him.

But he stays firm. “I told you, Emma. You needed a day off, and it was too gorgeous of a day today to pass it up.”

“I can’t just take the day off. I have a business to run, with my two best workers out of the picture right now.”

“I am not out of the picture. In fact, I’m right here, right next to you. And, if you’ll remember, it’s because of your generosity that I am back on the horse in the first place.”

“You know what I mean, Killian. Even you can admit that you may not yet be as helpful around the ranch as you have been in the past. You’re still recovering.”

“Aye, love,  _ even I  _ will admit to that. But none of that means that you cannot take one day off. Everyone needs a break at one point in their lives, even if they have to run a business.”

Here, she turns to him with a smile, and they slow their trot as they enter the woods. “Well, I can’t argue with that. And there is no one that I would rather spend my days off with, even if they are few and far between.”

He returns her smile, but stays silent, a silence that stays between them for a few minutes as they simply remain content in the company of the other, taking in the sights of the ranch that they have both seem to have forgotten about: the bright light shining through the trees, illuminating small, colorful patterns on the ground; the chirping of the birds, the insects, the animals, bringing the forest to life; and even the babbling of the stream, cutting softly through nature as only water is able to do. Before long, Killian slows them to a stop, dismounting on the edge of the clearing. Emma follows suit, knowing the place seems familiar, though she does not seem able to place it immediately - since the last time she was here, she has seen so much, been through so many changes to her life. 

And then, finally, it hits her, and she can’t hold back her smile when it comes. “Killian, is this where - “ but his lips are on hers before she can finish the question, incredibly thankful for the moment when he can finally drop the gentlemanly chivalry that has been required of him and do the one thing that he has wanted to do for so long, the one thing that they decided would be out of the question of happening in public, even the public of the ranch: he can finally hold her in his arms, feel the movement of her breathing against him, so real and perfect and there. 

“What is with you and picnics?” she asks with a laugh, helping him spread the blanket over the sun-warmed grass. 

He sits down beside her, pulling items out of his bag to set down in front of them, but his words are deep, revealing secrets he did not even realize he was holding within him. “When I was a boy, I would read all these stories of kids having picnics with their parents, see it happening before me in parks that I frequented hoping for someone to spare me something to eat. But to me, a picnic was only ever a dream, actually having enough food to provide a smorgasbord, even for just two people. And the day I discovered it was a possibility, that I could create one for the person that means more to me than anything, I could not help but take advantage of that.”

She looks up at him for a moment, staring hard into all of the emotions sinking in the oceans of his deep blue eyes, before she kisses him again. “I love you, Killian,” she whispers, words that have passed soundlessly between them dozens of times since she last allowed herself to say it, the day she returned home to him.

“I love you, too, Emma,” he replies, popping open the bottle of wine and pouring them each a glass.

And she is content with this, picking strawberries out of the container and looking around her - until she realizes something, something that makes her set down her glass of wine and turn her eyes towards him, thinking. 

“You did all of this just to give me a day off? Fresh fruit and wine from town is one thing, but fried chicken? Chocolate chip cookies? How much time did this take you to put together?”

“Oh, I've been planning this for a few weeks now,” he comments, trying to keep his voice nonchalant, but running his fingers over the soft velvet of the box in his pocket. 

“All of this for a day off? How did you know the weather was going to cooperate? How did you know I was going to cooperate?”

He smiles at her, pulling the box from his pocket and popping it open next to him, hidden from her view by his leg. 

“I had faith. Besides, I needed everything to be perfect.”

“Perfect? That’s a lot of hope just for a picnic, Killian.”

“It’s not just any picnic, though,” he says, shifting his weight to allow him to kneel beside her, holding the box in his hand before her. “This is the day when I finally ask you to marry me.”

She stares at the box for a moment - a silent moment just a little too long for his comfort. “Well, are you going to ask me?” she finally says after what feels like a lifetime, though he can’t help but smile at her anyway.

“Emma Nolan, will you marry me?”

She smiles back, her eyes shining brighter than the emeralds in the ring, and she takes it out of the box for him, but hands it back to him so he can slide it on her finger. 

“Of course I will.” 

Seeing it on her hand makes it look even more beautiful to him, though he knew from the moment Liam described it that it was meant to be his ring: a large, brilliant diamond, framed with two deep emeralds the color of her eyes - and two light sapphires, the color of his, the perfect depiction of the two of them, together.


	8. Epilogue

Emma stands on the porch of the house, looking out over the stream. As a child, she loved to look out of her parents’ bedroom window, out over the whole farm. Her great-grandfather built that house on the top of the tallest hill, specifically so you could see as much of the farm as possible. Some days, she misses that, though she would not change a moment of her life. 

Today is not one of those days. 

One of the first things Killian did when they started building the house was continue the trail that they brought them here in the first place, over the stream and through the pastures on the other side of the few rows of trees. Being a closer and more direct path to the main barn, this has become the path that they take on the way home, though they have both decided that the sunrise through the trees on the longer path was worth the few extra minutes in the morning. 

Using one hand to shield her eyes from the sun, sitting gently at the tops of the trees, she shifts four-month-old Brennan on her hip. The mid-summer sun beats over her, and even in shorts and a tied-up shirt, it creates beads of perspiration on her forehead. 

Brennan fusses, kneading his eyes with the backs of his tiny little hands. Emma turns to him, and is, as always, stunned by the brightness of his green eyes, shining against the stark darkness of his hair, and presses a kiss against his forehead. 

“No worries, darling, daddy will be home soon.”

No sooner does she start to calm his fussing than she hears the  _ clip-clop  _ of Jolly Roger’s hooves through the woods, a sound that, even at only four months old, stops Brennan, and he turns his head towards the woods. Just like Emma, a smile breaks out on his face when he sees Killian through the trees.

In front of her is a scene that will never grow old, though she knows the moments are, as always, fleeting. Killian sits in the saddle, his hair almost to his shoulders again, grown out as per Emma’s request - though not even really that, since all she did was tell him one night that sometimes she misses it, the flowing hair he has when he first came to the farm. He looked better with it as a teenager, though since he did it for her, she would never tell him that. Not that he could ever look  _ bad _ . Even six years ago, when she came home and found him burned half to death in his bed, he would still gorgeous enough to take her breath away. She imagined that was an ability he would never lose. 

But it is not just Killian that takes her breath away. She has watched her husband on a horse more times than she could count; but it is the three-year-old sitting in the saddle in front of him that makes her so proud. Unlike Brennan, Eva ‘s golden curls that shine in the sun, and she almost always has a smile across her face when in the saddle with her father. 

When Killian sees the pair of them on the porch, watching through the woods for their return, he returns her smile, then points their daughter’s attention in her direction, and both of them wave at her. 

“Hi, Mommy!” Eva yells across the stream, her smile - and her baby blue eyes - as bright as her father’s. “Guess what daddy and I did today!”

“Come in and wash yourself off for dinner, and you can tell me all about it!”

It does not take Killian and Eva long to put Jolly Roger away for the night; one of the perks of designing your own home was that the stable is attached to the house, the same way a garage would be, though a car is useless on the Nolan Ranch. 

Emma has come to accept dirty clothes at the table, something her mother  _ never  _ did (and still complains about to her every time she gets the chance), but they have come to agree that everyone must wash their hands before dinner, no exceptions - even when it is Emma out on the ranch and Killian at the house with Brennan making dinner. But just a few minutes after Emma watches them appear through the trees, the three of them are sitting at the table, Brennan in his bassinet, serving everyone their first plate of pot roast. 

She can tell that Eva is ready to explode with her stories, so as soon as they all have a plate full of food, Emma opens the flood gates: “So, Eva, what all did you and daddy do today?”

Just like that, the little girl’s blue eyes sparkle with excitement, and story time begins: first, they went to see the milking cows -  _ did you know grandma knows how to milk the cows? Even Sophie lets her get milk from her!  _ \- then they checked on the cows and bulls that were going to the butcher that week (though they had yet to tell Eva that; all she knew was that they were leaving, and tomorrow she would have to say goodbye.) They met grandpa and Uncle Liam at the first horse pasture, where David was sitting on the bench watching Liam with the horses, not having been on one himself since the fire. Eva sat with David and watched Liam and Killian ride them around the yard, then fed and brushed them while they mucked their stables. They also met Miss Ruby with the sheep -  _ did you know that for my fifth birthday, Miss Ruby said she would teach me how to shear one?! Do you know how to do that, mommy? Daddy said he does not know how, that you and grandpa always did it, is that true? I thought daddy knew everything, and now he says that he never learned how to shear a sheep!  _

Emma and Killian are both finished with their dinners by the time Eva is finished with her story, a normal occurrence in the Jones household. The three of them clean up the table together, Eva doing as much as she can before going to sit with Brennan in the living room, where they all sit together when everything is done and read a few pages of whatever book Eva has chosen this time, which they pick up piles of as often as they go into town. 

With Eva in his lap, Killian flips open  _ Pippi Longstocking _ , trying to find where they left off the night before, Emma feeding Brennan next to them. This was, without a doubt, her favorite part of their daily routine, sitting together as a family, hearing her husband read to Eva in his perfect, beautiful own way, silly voices and all. It even seemed to soothe Brennan, hearing him read, and it was usually not long before the little boy was asleep in her arms and Eva nodding off in Killian’s lap. 

Quietly, they send her up to bed, following close behind with the baby, setting him in the cradle before tucking Eva in. Within just a few minutes, the house grows silent, all activity from the day put to rest, the only sounds the creaking of the building as it, too, settles in for the night. 

“Why did you tell her you didn’t know how to shear a sheep?” she asks finally, looking over at him through the low light of the lamp next to their bed, further illuminated by the full moon shining through the open window. 

“It’s not entirely a lie, love. Your father taught me how, yes, but that does not mean it was ever a skill that I particularly excelled at.”

“One day she is going to learn that you lied to her.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he presses his lips softly against her cheek. “No, one day she is going to learn that there are many things that I am much better at than shearing a sheep, and realize why I always insisted that it was not a job I could do.”

When she has no comeback for him, she tries to change the subject, pulling his lips down to meet hers. “Speaking of things that you’re  _ much better at _ …” she mumbles against his lips, and she feels him smile.

“Which one are we speaking of? I’ve mastered how to milk a cow, and I am pretty damned good on horseback, if I do say so myself. And my father told me once that the only thing a man needs to know how to do well is make a cup of tea.”

Her lips against his neck, she says, “We both know you’re good at much more than that.”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m not half bad at portraits, though it is definitely a skill that I need to work on if I want to master it. Uh, I would think Eva would tell me that I’m a pretty great father, and I make excellent pancakes.”

“ _ Killian, _ ” she pleads, and it is his name on her lips that finally cracks him, and he finds her lips again. 

“Yes, love. But if I had to choose the one thing that I am best at, it’s knowing how to please my wife.”

“I love you, Killian,” she breathes, feeling his fingers against her skin. 

“Aye, I love you, too, Emma. All I have ever wanted was to be able to have you, and you make me the happiest man alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add another chapter between the last one and this one, but I thought it flowed too perfectly to change. Thank you all for coming along for the ride - this was definitely the story where I learned the most for the background, and I had a damned good time writing it. Come say hi on tumblr, if you're there: I'm thejollyroger-writer and I truly appreciate each and every one of my readers! :)


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